


A Tale of Two Men

by Tangerine



Series: The Davis Age [1]
Category: Excalibur (Comic), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-12-10
Updated: 1999-12-10
Packaged: 2019-05-28 01:40:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15037910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangerine/pseuds/Tangerine
Summary: Kylun returns home.





	A Tale of Two Men

**Author's Note:**

> A special thanks goes out to queenB and Kielle, both of whom helped immensely with this piece.

The darkness fell over his face, hiding him from the rest of the sleepy patrons as they drank themselves into dreams of glory and love. How sad it was that they chose to waste their lives here. He had seen life, he had lived it, and he knew what they were missing. Yet here he was, drinking like they did, postponing and putting off life. Sometimes, it seemed as though he was two different men. 

"Can I get ye another lager, sir?" The woman spoke softly, glancing warily at a table of rowdy men that continued to harass her despite her many protests only moments before. "Or perhaps, can I get ye something to eat?" 

He looked up, his strange eyes staring coldly at the idiot men, and pushed the glass from him. "No, thank you. I've had enough." He paused as one of the gentlemen shouted a crude comment, making obscene gestures with his left hand. He was a quiet fellow, not one to get involved, but he had a warrior's spirit and a hero's heart. "Do you need help?" 

She shook her head sadly. "Nay. I cannae accept yuir help, anyway. I'll be okay, I promise ye. They come here often, I dinnae care about them." 

He sighed deeply. For a moment he thought perhaps it might be best to let things lie as they were, but as the waitress walked back to the counter and one of the men hit her bottom roughly, he could not contain his distaste for their boorish actions any longer. There were two sides to every man, and the group of idiots were about to experience the chivalric one. 

"Excuse me," he started quietly, staying in the shadows with his right hand resting on a long, thin bag whose leather strap was draped over his powerful shoulders. "I couldn't help but notice what morons you are, and not only are you disgusting me with your ungentlemanly behaviour, but you're offending the lady. I'd like to ask you to stop." 

"Would ye, now?" One of the men laughed loudly, receiving shouts of encouragement from his friends. The ogre stood on trunk-like legs, his callused hands clenched in huge fists and his eyes building slightly from beneath the heavy lids. "Are ye looking for a fight, stranger? Because if ye are, I'll be more than happy to oblige ye." 

"A fight?" He grinned a feral grin, the warrior in him awakening from a very deep slumber, eager to do what had to be done. It had been awhile since he'd been challenged, and a part of him yearned to forego the formalities and beat this bugger senseless. "No, not looking for one of those, but I will do what is necessary to protect a lady's honour." 

"A lady? Ach, you dinnae know who she is then, do ye? That's the town wench. She deserves to be treated as no less, stranger. She been the downfall of many a good marriage, always tempting the men with that pert little body of hers." 

"Typical...always trying place to place the blame on the women for a man's infidelity." 

He backed down for a moment before quickly withdrawing a sword from its leather sheath, and he held the sharp blade beneath the man's huge neck, wondering if the mystical sword would deem his soul pure and pass right through him or pierce his tawny hide, wounding him horribly. 

"I care not what you think she is, but I can say I know what you are, you overgrown pig." 

The insult set the abusive man off, and the would-be knight-in-shining-armour dodged the incoming punch, elbowing his attacker in his bulbous abdomen, knocking the wind from him. The huge Scotsman gagged loudly and clutched his stomach, stepping back as he wheezed and moaned, dizzy from the pain. 

"He's a mutie!" 

The light had finally fallen on his face, and for a moment he was stunned at the words. He had never heard such disgust in a voice before, not recently, not since he was a boy, not since the Vixen and her men. For the most part since his return to this Earth, he stayed out of the way and avoided people, so it came as a mild shock. He was still unaccustomed to the ways of this world, his birth world, and like most bad memories of a child it had been forgotten. 

Four men leapt at him and he fell to his knees, his joints cracking under the tremendous weight. He struggled to remain above the ground, but he knew that before long these overzealous men might crush him; unsure of what else to do as they pushed down on his back, he reluctantly used the mutant power he had been given in life, the power he considered to be ridiculous and demeaning. Of what use was the ability to reproduce any sound? None, and he was secretly humiliated by the need to utilise it. It was an insult to the warrior inside him. 

But desperate times called for desperate measures, and feeling his bones begin to bend, he felt this time called for drastic actions and soon...so he called upon his clownish powers, praying it would have an affect on the rioting crowd, whether it meant terrifying them or seeing them all die of laughter. 

"RAAAAAAAAAWR!" 

The sound was deafening and reminiscent of something heard in a horror film, and the men fell back, scrambling over each other at the terrifying scream. Unsure whether his plan had worked or not, he let loose with another terrifying cry that shook the very building with its sheer strength and power. Catching a putrid whiff of a soiled man, Kylun had to admit it had indeed done what he had hoped. 

Praying he would not have to rely on his mutancy again, he looked up, unaware he had even lowered his head in shame. The once full pub was now empty, save for the quivering waitress who stood stunned yet thankful at the counter, staring with wide, blue eyes at the exotic, feline man before her. 

"Thank ye, sir," she said finally with a timid voice. "Thank ye." 

He nodded briefly in understanding, quickly zipping the sword back into his sack and turning toward the door. He had to get out of there, now, before something else went wrong. He didn't want to fight again; his bones ached and he could feel blood tricking across his skin under his coat of fur. He knew the men of Scotland were not known for giving up that easily. 

"Wait!" He looked back slowly, fearing she might lash out in hate now that the initial shock had passed. He knew how the boys at school had been, he remembered their spiteful scorning, so he knew what humans were capable of when they were afraid. "What's yuir name? So I know and can say a prayer, thanking our heavenly Father for yuir help, at mass, on Sunday." 

He appeared thoughtful for a moment, a bit unsure of the answer himself, unsure of whom exactly he was, then he replied simply with a coarse, throaty voice, "Colin. Colin McKay." 

**** 

He had been back at home, no, back on earth, for months now, yet that name he had uttered back at the pub still sounded strangely foreign to him. Colin McKay -- it had a familiar sound to it, like something once spoken in a dream, but he still could hardly recognise it as his own. For so long he had been Kylun, the fearless warrior, the leader of a rebellion, and now he found it difficult to think of himself as any other man. 

He was entering into another chapter in his life, and it was one that had not been written yet, one that he didn't know how it would end or even what character he would play. He was sure this was Colin's chapter, for Kylun was near an end. There was no longer any need for him, but did he want to lose that? Could he be both, or only one, or did he have to become someone else entirely? He would have to grow accustomed to that fact because this was the life he was going to be leading. A decision had to be made; a line had to be written that would start his new cycle of existence. Would he be Colin? 

To the world, Colin McKay was missing and presumed to be dead as he had been gone for over a year, yet Colin was here now...twenty years older than when he left, but still Colin. He had left Excalibur to seek his parents and tell them of his fate, but he was so afraid of their reaction, wondering if they'd even believe the incredible story he had to tell, that he had yet to do so. Could they accept their son as a different man? 

Kicking a stone with his foot, he walked along slowly, pensive and lonely. It had been so long since he'd seen his family, and he so wished to see his father's wild beard or his mother's gentle smile or Chester's languishing form. He missed all that he had left, but the things he loved most of all. 

Kylun used to dream of having a beard like his father, to be a man like his father was, so powerful and strong...and looking at himself now he had to laugh. His mutation had resulted in a thick layer of brown fur all over his body, which contrasted oddly with his orange hair and yellow eyes. He was obviously a mutant. Would his parents accept their feline son or would they turn him away, afraid of his differences? He hoped it would be the former. 

Colin sighed deeply, closing his catlike eyes for a moment. It had been weeks since his return to Scotland, yet he had done everything in his power to avoid going home. Edinburgh was close now, within easy walking distance, and he could easily imagine what it looked like in his mind. He wanted to go home, but he was afraid no happy ending would come to his story. 

Kylun walked until sunrise, many hours passing as he headed slowly to his final target and at seven in the crisp, spring morning, the house he had grown up in came into view. He paused at the horrifying sight, fearing the last meal he had eaten would once again see the light of day -- and like he had many times before, he wished for Sa'tneen's strength to aid him. 

He smiled sadly, remembering his beautiful wife and how he had loved her with every ounce of his soul. He still missed her dearly with not a day going by where he wouldn't recall what she had meant to him. He had no pictures of her, nothing but a vivid memory of her beauty -- and his heart, which had been forever imprinted with her life. He knew it would only be a blink in time before they were together again, and he could wait. If their love was strong enough to fight a rebellion with, it was strong enough to withstand time itself. 

And there was his house, standing as it had been twenty years before. It hadn't changed despite all his years on Ee'rath...but then, it wasn't supposed to change. Only a year had passed on this earth, one year, a single year. Would anything be that different? That changed? Or was he trying to live the life of a man, of a child, who no longer existed? 

Gathering every ounce of his courage and heart in his index finger, he brought his right hand to the doorbell. He had been here once before weeks ago, ready to reveal himself to his parents before he had been snatched and whisked away to fight another fight, knowing some day he'd return to complete what he started. And now he was here, ready to try it again. 

Closing his eyes, he pressed firmly on the bell, jumping slightly at the familiar chime and knowing now it was too late to turn back. Either he had made the wisest decision of his life, or he was a fool and had condemned himself. Time would tell very soon. The story of his life was about to be written. The man he was supposed to be would soon be decided. 

The door opened slowly, and he heard the shuffle of clothing and a small gasp. Almost painfully, he opened his wild eyes and looked at the woman who stared at him, not in horror but in silent contemplation. Would she recognise him? Would she know her own son? 

"Colin?" The whisper came on still lips, and it was nearly caught by the wind and stolen forever, but it hit his sensitive ears like a scream, shattering his calm appearance as his soft, furry cheeks were dampened with warm tears. 

"Mummy," he said softly, like the little boy he had once been, and fell into her arms, feeling her soft face against his, remembering his youth. He was like a child again, innocent and loving, content with whom he was, with what he was. Could he have found himself? Did his mother know who he was? 

"Amy?" A voice called from within the house. "Amy? Who's at the door?" 

Kylun looked up at his father's voice and didn't know what to say. Fortunately for him, he didn't need to say a word. 

"Keep ye hands off of 'er, ye heathen! Who do ye think ye are touching my wife like that, ye monster? I will nae let you mock my son like that! He was a good boy, God rest his soul, and we dinnae need cretins like you dressing up like a beast and destroying the memory! We're sick of ye and all yuir friends. Leave us be." 

Any words he might have been blessed with left his mouth once again. With a deep sense of remorse and rejection Kylun turned to his mother. He was unsure of what to say or do to make his father understand that something miraculous had happened today. He wanted to make him understand that life wasn't playing another cruel trick. 

"Liam, please, ye dinnae know what yuir talking about." She ran her hands across Colin's face, stroking his cheek like she used to when he was a child, and she'd sing him to sleep, so he'd escape his nightmares. "This is yuir son, Liam, this is Colin." 

"Colin," he echoed quietly, minutely ashamed of his outburst but the dark cloud of disbelief still loomed over him, for he couldn't quite make himself believe it could happen this simply. "But how can that be? Yuir a man, our son's only a wee bairn, only eight years old. Yuir, yuir...ye cannae be him!" 

"I am, Daddy, and I'll tell you the story, if you want to hear it," Colin answered, smiling slightly at his father's gruffness, knowing it hid a soft interior. He couldn't blame his father for his shock. It was, after all, only natural. "May I come in and tell it to you? But I promise you. I am Colin McKay." 

Liam looked to Amy, who nodded in agreement, for her heart told her who this man was and she would not deny it. It was true that his eyes had not changed, but it was his soul that betrayed him to her, the way he spoke with such gentleness, the way he looked at her, like a child to his mother, like her son to her. 

Walking into the bright house, Colin stared in awe around the close space. It was exactly how he pictured it, how his memories told him it would be. The chesterfield, the pictures, the coffee table, they all stood where they had twenty years ago. He was home. 

The huge, wooden staircase loomed in front of him, its dark colour giving it a threatening air, and he knew painfully well the danger those stairs could hold. "I remember falling down those stairs," he commented wistfully, "I was chasing after Chester and should have heeded your warning, Mummy, but I got too close and down I went. I still have the scars, beneath the fur," he added, increasingly aware of his appearance and how it clashed with everything his parents remembered about him. 

As if on cue, a large orange cat waddled from the kitchen, perching upon the bench in the hall like the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland, staring at them all with wild eyes. Colin found himself staring at those eyes, for they were so like his. He looked more like the family cat now than his own parents. 

"He's missed ye," Amy commented almost silently, staring at Liam intently who frowned deeply under the scrutiny. "He may not look like it, but I know he did. Where have ye been, Colin? Where has me little boy gone?" 

Colin sat on a chair, placing his swords, a gift from the mystic Zz-ria, at his feet. "He grew up on a world where time passes more quickly than it does here. I may have been missing for a year, but I've been gone for twenty." 

"Ach! Yuir almost as old as ye mum is!" Amy exclaimed with a laugh, lifting her hands to her open mouth to cover the shocked smile. "And yuir Daddy too, eh, Liam?" 

Liam nodded his head, still skeptical, still unsure if this man was really his young son whose disappearance he had long ago come to terms with, or so he thought. Now, it seemed almost like a fairytale, where the most unlikely thing that could happen, does and will. The whole story seemed so bizarre to him, yet he found himself believing there might be a grain of truth to what the man was saying. 

"What happened then?" Liam asked, needing to hear more. Unlike his wife, he needed more substantial proof that what his heart had to say. "How did ye find yuirself living on that strange world?" 

"When I was seven years old, I was kidnapped by the criminal Vixen because I was a mutant. To this day, I'm not sure how I managed to escape, but I did. Not knowing what to do, I hid in a derelict building. Why, well, I'm still not sure why, but one day this little creature named Widget appeared, and we had fun. He made sure I wasn't lonely and that I didn't think about just how bad the situation was...and one day, he opened up a portal to another earth, a place called Ee'rath. I was nurtured there by some very wonderful people and grew into the man you see before you--" he could see the skepticism in his father's green eyes "--but I assure you, I am Colin McKay, despite what I may look like or how old I am. My mind, my heart, tells me I am." 

"But yuir eyes are also the same, Colin," Amy said, brushing a stray lock of long hair from his feline face, noting his hair and how it looked so much like hers, like it had when he was a boy. "They're still as they when ye were a lad, so strange and beautiful. Look at them, Liam, they have nae changed at all, have they?" 

Liam stared at Colin for a good many minutes, searching for some sign of his son and trying to ignore the eyes that stared back. Finally, deciding his heart must be right, he nodded slowly, smiling through the dark beard. "Aye, they have nae changed at all. Colin, me boy, welcome home!" 

Bending down to his level, Liam grabbed his son in a huge hug while avoiding the chair he sat upon, laughing as he squeezed his once skinny and bony child, proud to see what a man the awkward boy had grown into. He knew someday Colin would make a better man than he, and he had not been wrong. 

"Thank you, Daddy." As his father released the embrace, Colin smiled to himself, running his hands through his orange hair, and Amy walked over to him, taking his fuzzy hand. "And you, Mummy, I've missed you both very, very much." 

Amy's brown eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at him, taking in the man her baby boy had become in her absence. "When did it happen?" 

"I was twelve when the fur grew, if that's what you mean." Amy nodded, and Liam wrapped his arms around her waist, creating the perfect picture of a young couple madly in love. "It took me a while to get used to it and to accept that was the person I was." 

Amy rubbed the back of his hands with her fingers, stroking the prickly fur. "It's like a cat, like petting Chester! I always knew ye'd be different from the other lads, Colin. From the day ye pushed yuir way into this world, I knew ye wouldn't be like the others." 

"And was that a good thing?" 

"The best," Liam replied, sharing a smile with his son. Despite the obvious differences, Liam could see Amy in their boy; he had the same gentle grace to him, the same exotic beauty, the same sharp mind. 

They sat in silence for a moment, content with once again being united, but they were interrupted by a shrill cry from another room. Amy's face lit up, and she disappeared quickly. Liam looked at Colin with a knowing grin, and Colin smiled back, unsure of what was going on and not especially caring, for deep in his heart, he knew this was right. It was undeniable. He had indeed found himself. 

Hearing a quiet disturbance in the back of his thoughts, he looked up and, with delight, saw the tiny person in his mother's arms, the little baby who cooed and giggled as Amy sang softly to her, holding the child tight to her body, pointing to Colin. "That's yuir brother, Elena, yuir big brother." 

Forcing himself into movement, Kylun stood and walked over to see his sister, struck into a state of wonderment and awe. He had always wanted a sibling, but his parents had explained to him that after his birth, it was unlikely Amy would ever conceive again. Looking at Elena, seeing the life in that innocent face, it seemed the doctors had been wrong. 

"Do ye want to hold her?" Amy asked, and Colin nodded, taking his baby sister in his arms. "She was a miracle, that's fer sure. I found out I was expecting the day ye disappeared, just so ye know, she was never meant to be a replacement." 

"I know," Colin murmured, laughing as Elena hiccuped then stared at him with wide, surprised eyes, and for the first time he noticed what was different about her, what was so unique about her perfect, little form. "She has my eyes." 

"That she does," Liam said proudly, hugging his wife, laughing because he could, for today his family was one again. The McKays were once again a family, and they would never be broken apart again. 

As Colin McKay looked around his house, as he looked at the family he thought he had lost forever, he realised a part of him that had been missing for twenty years was back, and he was ecstatic and complete. Long ago, he'd convinced himself they'd been lost, but much to his utter surprise, they hadn't. Instead, he had been blessed, and his story had a happy ending when he never thought it would. So, he realised at that very moment, it didn't matter who he was anymore. He had known all along he was Colin McKay...but with that knowledge, Kylun didn't die. Kylun was the warrior, he was the hero and the fighter, and someday, he would need that part of him again. 

Someday, but not today. Today was Colin's day, and he was happy for it.


End file.
